Protect the Vessel
by Kristanci
Summary: Shortly after Dean finds out that he is Michael's vessel, he finds help in the most intriguing being he has ever met. Not sure if he can trust her completely, he keeps his supposed "protector" at a distance. She is by far the most hideous thing he has ever seen but as time goes by he finds himself more drawn to her with each passing day and slowly she is shaped into his perfection.
1. Abduction

**This story begins shortly after Dean finds out he is the vessel for Michael. The rest of the story becomes its own and does not follow the official Supernatural storyline. Just in case, I don't own Supernatural. I only own the words here and how they are place. Thanks for reading! **

Leigh Bartley was so happy to hear the door lock click open when she pulled the keycard from metallic slot. The four star hotel she was staying in was nice, but work was completely draining her. She barely had enough time to enjoy the gorgeous marble bath in the lavish bathroom, but tonight she planned on changing that. She threw her books and clipboards on the bed and kicked off her heels. Her purse went flying next and her hair finally came loose. Sighing with anticipation, she ran the bath water and began humming to herself.

As she passed the bathroom counter, she placed her earrings and tennis bracelet on the smooth tiled top. She made her way back to the bed and turned on the soft listening station on the small black radio that rested on the nightstand. She stopped humming when she realized the water was no longer running. '_Odd'_ she thought to herself. Maybe something was wrong with the plumbing. That would completely ruin her night.

She hurried back to the bath and turned the faucet clockwise then counter clockwise. Nothing. Leigh pouted and she could already feel the headache approaching. "Just great," she let out a heavy sigh. Her blood ran cold when she saw her own breath in a frosty mist. Suddenly, the radio went static. The volume increased to a screeching level causing Leigh to throw her hands over her ears to muffle the piercing pitch.

The whole place began to shake and one by one the light bulbs throughout her room burst into tiny little pieces. Her heart leapt around in her chest when the bathroom mirrors began cracking and breaking off. She rushed out of the bathroom and ran to her luggage. Her hands fumbled with the locks, her eyes completely focused on the task before her.

Her suitcase sprung open and she drove her hands into her clothing, searching for the only weapon she had on her. When her slender finger wrapped around a tiny bottle, she turned just in time to see a shimmer of a ghost flying toward her. She was knocked on her back and felt a deadly grip around her throat. A shrill, chilling voice filled her ears. "Welcome, Ms. Bartley. We've been expecting you."


	2. Lee Bartley

Dean and Sam Winchester ran as fast as they could up the bleak and cold stairwell. Their heavy footsteps and labored breathing echoed off the concrete walls. "I still think we should have taken the elevators," gasped Sam.

"Oh yeah, great idea, Sammy," Dean chided in between breaths. "Let's just bust into a classy hotel and wave around the sawed off shotguns strapped to our shoulders. Would love another run in with the cops." They hiked up a couple more stories before they came to the 4th floor. Cautiously, Dean opened the door and peered down the hallway. Empty. Perfect.

With Sam close behind him, they made their way to room 444. As soon as he saw that the door to room was ajar, Dean stopped in his tracks. He slowly approached it, gripping his shotgun tightly. Using the tip of the barrel, he pushed open the door and felt his heart sink when he saw the debris of the destroyed room. He called out quietly, "Lee?" No answer. Great.

Dean motioned for Sam to clear the bathroom and living room while he took the bedroom and lounge. For a split second he wished they could stay in lavish places like these, but that thought disappeared when he saw Lee's clothes strewn about all over the bedroom. With every step he took, glass and broken plastic was crushed under his heels. '_Dammit, Lee, where are you?'_ he thought to himself. There was definitely a sign of struggle, but there was no blood. That was a good sign.

"Sam!" Dean called out when he saw a small bottle on the floor. He heard his younger brother rush over.

"Found something?" Sam asked.

Dean knelt and picked up the bottle and poured out some of its contents on the floor. A white crystallized powder spilled out and Dean couldn't help but chuckle. "Salt. Smart girl. She was a little too slow. Bottle's damn near full."

Not too far from where he picked up the bottle was a discarded cell phone that lay face down. Dean felt his heart become heavy when he picked up the phone and searched through the directory. Sure enough, the last call made was to John Winchester. Dean remembered hearing Lee's scream. All she got out was the name of the hotel and her room number. Luckily, he and Sam were just one county over, but it ate at him that they were too late.

"You think she's alive?" Sam asked, shouldering his shotgun again.

"Yeah, but not for long. We're going to have to figure out the story behind this room."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

After some quick thinking on Sam's part, the hotel staff believed the Winchester brothers were undercover cops and were doing all they could to figure out what happened to the woman staying in Room 444. It bought them a little time before real law enforcement officers would show up.

"So your saying dad helped her years ago?" Sam asked Dean while they were searching the room for clues. "I don't recognize her name."

Dean searched the walls looking for anything that could tell him where Lee might have gone or where she was taken. To his dismay, he didn't find any symbols or signs of Lees whereabouts. "You wouldn't. You were off in college when dad saved her," Dean answered in a slightly bitter tone. He stopped himself from continuing when he realized he was close to opening a dangerous can of worms. He cleared his throat and chose his next words carefully. "Looks like whatever was after her came back with full force. Since she was carrying around salt, it seems like she didn't think this was over either."

"Found these too," Sam tossed some jewelry on the half destroyed bed.

"Well, Sammy, I don't know how you didn't pick this up, but women love jewelry," Dean said in his usual sarcasm.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean and grabbed a single ring and tossed it to his brother. Dean effortlessly caught it with his left hand. As soon as he felt the metal, he understood. "Iron… She would have made a decent hunter."

"Well, if she wants a chance at a normal life, we need to A, find her alive and B, get rid of the thing tracking her," Sam stated. "Her full name is Leigh but you and dad call her Lee right?" He didn't wait for Dean to answer him. After going through his father's journal so many times, he could swear he remembered seeing "Lee" in the corner of one of the middle pages of the journal. Sam rubbed his tired eyes and tried to remember what else was written around that name, but he couldn't. He would have to rifle through the journal again when they got back to the Impala. A crinkling noise disturbed his thoughts. He looked up to see Dean stuffing a Snickers bar into his mouth and gave him an accusatory look.

Dean shrugged in surprise like he was surprised that Sam was surprised at his actions. "What?"

"Did you seriously just raid the mini bar?" Sam scolded.

"It's not like they're going to know it's missing. I mean, come on! _Look_ at this place. A missing candy bar is going to the least of their worries," Dean explained.

Sam shook his head, instinctively turning his gaze away from Dean and downward. A light gray marking caught his eye. His brows furrowed as he knelt down on one knee. He reached out and lightly caressed the trail. It felt and looked like ash. He pinched at the carpet hoping to gather some of the ash on his fingertips. He held up his fingers close to his nostrils. The ash had a very light fragrance. It wasn't a scent he recognized, but at least they found something that might be able to help them.

"What do you think," Dean asked with his mouth completely full of chocolate and peanuts.

The longer Sam stared at the trail, the easier it was to see that it began in the middle of the room and made a beeline straight to the wall closest to Lee's luggage. What kind of ghost left a trace of their existence behind? He stood and looked at Dean. "We need to do some research."

XXXXXXXXX

Dean bit into a juicy bacon burger and sighed in content. He didn't bother waiting for Sam to dig in since his little brother was still on his cell talking to Bobby. The diner they were in was very lively and loud and it was perfect. There was no way anyone could hear them talking about hunting ghosts and tracking a missing person over the boisterous customers and shouts of food orders from the kitchen.

"Yeah, thanks Bobby. Let me know if you find anything else," Sam said just before ending the call.

"Anything?" Dean asked wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

Sam dug his fork into a piece of grilled chicken. "Maybe. How familiar are you with Chinese lore and superstition?"

"Next to nothing," Dean admitted. "We hunting a ghost from Chinatown?"

"Like I said, maybe," Sam took a sip of water before he continued. "How much do you know about what happened with Lee when dad was around?"

Sam saw the change in Dean's eyes and he knew he wasn't going to like this story.

_6 years ago in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania _

_The moon was beginning its final descent, and dawn was near. Three silhouettes were dashing through a large clearing. John and Dean Winchester and Leigh Bartley were running through Evans Cemetery for their lives. "Keep going!" John hollered when he saw Leigh look back to make sure he and Dean were still behind her. _

_Dean was hauling ass through the cemetery, trying to spot a dark stone pillar that marked their intended target. His legs and chest were burning and the grip he had on his shotgun was becoming sweaty. He hopped over several headstones doing his best not to lose his momentum. He was suddenly hit with an invisible force and his body went flying straight into a tree. _

"_Dean!" he heard his dad call. _

_Dean shook his head quickly trying to clear his vision. As soon as he could see straight again, he saw a shimmer of a ghost right in front of him. He aimed the shotgun and fired a shell of rock salt into the ghost successfully repelling it for the time being. He heard John shout his name again. "I'm fine!" Dean yelled back. "Here!" When Dean saw his dad, he tossed him his favorite lighter. "Burn the bitch! I'll keep her busy!"_

_John nodded and he and Leigh took off running once more. His head was still throbbing but Dean managed to get to his feet. Another ear piercing screech and the ghost was charging at him again. He was more than happy to pump even more rock salt into the spirit. Something caught his eye right before she disappeared again though. For a split second, he thought he saw something in her eyes. He thought he saw fear. _

"_The hell," Dean said to himself. _

_He hurriedly reloaded the shotgun risking a few chance glances to check his perimeter. He was glad that he had a couple of moments to collect his thoughts. There was another shriek but it was accompanied by another sound he couldn't place. He turned and what he saw didn't match what he was hearing. There were two voices, but he only saw one spirit. And she was frightened. _

_She came at him quickly with her arms open as if silently asking for him to hold her. Before she reached him she suddenly twisted away like she was on a leash. Her feet were set on fire and the flame quickly engulfed her entire body. Seconds later, black ash was all that was left of the spirit. _

_Dean didn't realize how tense he was until he allowed all the muscles in his body to relax. He let out a shaky breath and rubbed the back of his neck trying to ease the pain there. He was surprised to see his dad and Leigh jogging back to him so soon after they were separated. He was even more concerned when he saw that their clothes weren't dirty at all. "Was she in a crypt?" he asked. _

"_No," John answered. It looked like he was trying to organize his thoughts. _

"_What is it, dad?" _

_Leigh stepped forward looking just as confused as John. Her hair was matted to her face, and her breathing was shallow. "We found where she was buried but…"_

_Dean hated trying to get words out of people. "But?"_

"_Her entire grave caught fire," Leigh finished. "Like it spontaneously combusted before we could even touch it. Is that- is that normal?"_

_That was weird even for the Winchester's line of work. "Whatever happened, it definitely got rid of her," Dean concluded. _

"_You sure?" John asked skeptically. _

"_Yeah, positive. She just did that spirit death thing and disappeared. Ashes and all," Dean looked back to Leigh. "Can you… feel her anymore?" _

_To his relief, Leigh shook her head. "Not a trace. Do you think this is really over?" Her worriedly looked to Dean then to John._

_Dean saw his dad uncharacteristically wrap one arm around Leigh's shoulders giving her a half hug. He smiled at Leigh, trying his best to comfort her. "I think it is. If anything, and I mean anything, gives you a red flag, call me."_

_Leigh flashed him a grateful, beautiful smile. She turned and pressed her body into his and gave him a full hug. "Thank you, John. You too, Dean," her voice broke and Dean could just hear all the stress and tension leaving her. She held out her hand, and Dean wrapped his fingers around hers completing the awkward handshake. He always thought his dad felt something for Leigh but he never asked. And he wouldn't now either. Instead, he smiled a goodbye to Leigh and walked away leaving the two alone. _

Sam pulled up a business profile on Leigh Bartley on his laptop, so he could better picture her. She was a pretty successful lawyer and was doing well for herself. She had amazing auburn hair that framed her face and a very genuine smile. She looked to be in her late thirties, early forties but appeared to be very fit. "So why was the ghost after her to begin with?" Sam asked still browsing through Lee's profile.

Dean snapped out of his daze and resumed eating his burger. "Well, you do know Evans Cemetery is where the original Night of the Living Dead was filmed?"

Realization hit Sam. It wasn't uncommon for supernatural incidents to happen on the sets and locations of films and movies. But that didn't explain the connection with a spirit. "Last time I checked zombies and ghosts were two different types of supernatural beings."

"I'm getting there," Dean snapped. "When Lee was a teenager, she was in high school choir. Just so happens that they performed at the actual cemetery for a teacher that passed away. Of course, it was their damn Latin teacher so who knows what they were singing. Dad and I thought they may have accidentally conjured or woken up a seriously pissed off ghost."

"So why just Lee?" Sam pondered out loud. He focused back on Dean and completely ignored his own meal. "Did she do anything else out of the ordinary?"

Dean swallowed another bit of his burger. "Well…"

"Well?"

"She maaay have done a séance or two back in her day," Dean gulped down his drink and raised his hand, silently asking the waitress for the check. Sam scowled and Dean threw up his hands. "I know, I know. But we really thought it was over. I mean, the ghost just went _poof_ and she was gone just like every other ghost we ganked."

"Did the ghost look like she was of Asian descent?" Sam asked.

Dean had to think about the question for a second. "No, why?"

"The number four," Sam explained, turning his laptop around so Dean could see what the page Sam was researching. There was a Chinese character plastered on the page. It was a square with two vertical dashes in the center of it. "According to Asian superstition, the number four is bad luck. Kind of the equivalent to the number thirteen for us. Four also has the same pronunciation as the word for death in the language."

"Well, that's just stupid. They should have changed that," Dean commented.

Sam didn't bother acknowledging Dean and tapped the trackpad a few more times. He pulled up a picture of a Chinese painting depicting a very angry spirit driving a spear into an innocent human man. "It says here that many of these ghosts are vengeful and can easily latch on to a human medium even moreso if the 'time and place are aligned as one'. This may be a long shot, but do you have any idea when Lee did those séances?"

"No idea," the older brother admitted. "Wait… when we got rid of that ghost. I remember complaining to dad that I didn't get any sleep for almost an entire day. When we ganked that ghost, it had to be close to four in the morning." Dean's eyes scanned over the webpage that was still up on the laptop. He read over the last statement. "Holy shit, Sam. Lee was staying in room 444 at the hotel."

Sam nodded glad that Dean was finally getting the picture. "Yeah, and today is April 4th."


End file.
